#fear blurbs

[fearyandear]

I just got out of the shower with a sad idea.

Boyfriend's Ghost (TW: Suicide Ideation)

VN where you're haunted by the ghost of your boyfriend who keeps you from moving on.

At first, he tries to make the best of it by cracking jokes, enjoying that you're both stuck linked together, helping you with stuff. But the more time passes, he sees the possibility of you moving on just fine without him and it causes him to spiral. He's overprotective, smothering, jealous and depressed. He feels like he's running out of options and it's inevitable that he's going to lose you....

Unless...

He starts trying to convince you in any way to consider... coming with him. Little by little, it gets more and more dangerous as he'll eventually stop asking and start demanding.

[sleyu]

in regards to perv!marauders . . . theyd so get off on the more innocent pics of you— it could be a polaroid of you smiling and it’d be covered in cum by the end of the summer bcos your innocence is so hot to them

i am losing my mind at the thought of this. the mere thought of corrupting you torments perv!marauders and something about the contrast of their filth paired with your seemingly pure disposition makes their cock throb.

the photo usually always comprises you beaming, presumably looking up at them through the camera, batting your eyelashes prettily, looking so radiant and cute. i can picture a photo of you leaning against their palm, their large hands caressing your cheek while you peer up at them. maybe it’s that sleepy look of yours; maybe it’s your flushed face or your puffy, watery eyes; or perhaps it’s the gloss on your lips that makes you look so girly and kissable that has them groaning into their pillow as they fist their aching cock late into the night, feverish and frantic to cum to the sight of you.

it's not only your innocence that gets them off, but it's the thought of ruining it that drives them to the edge. all of them would repeatedly fantasize about making you just as desperate as they are for you. they want nothing more than for you to look up at them—a betrayed, foggy look in your lust-filled eyes—begging them to take you again because three rounds simply aren’t enough and you're far too addicted to their cocks stretching out your ruined cunt to stop.

[outofthebluess]

𝜗𝜚 we can run away to the walls inside your house .ᐟ

currently playing ❛ sailor song ❜ in which: ❛ without much of a family of your own, you take to spending time with percy's family; sally finding a bit of her younger self in you. ❜

─────────────────────

pairing: ❛ percy jackson x fem!reader ❜ warnings: ❛ use of y/n, not super well written, very short, old people being nostalgic ❜

─────────────────────

"how do you already have flour on your face? we haven't even done anything yet." you smile to yourself as you tug on your sleeve, bringing the fabric to percy's cheek.

"when i pulled it down from the shelf it spilled a bit..." he leaned into your touch, his cheeks warm despite the cool weather.

as time passed and sally watched her son annoy the living hell out of you by messing up the recipe, she laughed to herself. paul turned his head to the woman sitting next to him. you and percy's laughs heard in the almost quiet distance. he'd give her a knowing look, prompting the 'what is it?' that left his mouth.

"she just reminds me so much of myself... that poor girl has no idea what shes getting herself into."

"are you making fun of your own son?"

sally tilted her head, her eyes meeting paul's, "no, i'm simply saying that if his father was such a handful imagine what she puts up with."

paul nodded, glancing back and forth between her and the pair throwing flour around the kitchen. "i doubt she minds, i mean look at her."

before you could get the chance to toss another fist of flour at him percy places one hand around your wrist, his eyes narrowing before letting your hand go. you regretfully place the powder back into the bag.

he places a finger through the belt loop of your jeans turning you slightly so you face him. percy wipes all the flour away from your face, trying to avoid the boring eyes of his parents. you tried hard to keep down the smile that tried to slip it's way onto your lips. you failed miserably.

"there she is..." his voice is soft, like every word he spoke was a secret just between the two of you. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before beginning to actually clean up.

paul looked back to his wife with a smile. "i think she'll be alright."

─────────────────────

. . .

A LETTER FROM LAY! guess who hit 111 followers! i've never done a follower event before but i do want to do one, so give me some time and i'll think of something!

this is super short but i fear it's been sitting unfinished in my drafts forever and i wanted it posted :)

[puckinghischier]

thinking about how luke hughes is probably the best hugger known to man. like he is so large i just know his hugs would be like a big warm blanket around you making you forget anything that had you worried

“baby, what’s wrong?” Luke asked as you walked through the front door, shoulders rounded and a frown on your face.

“bad day, L” you responded, dropping your bag at the door and walking straight over to him, needing to feel one of his all encompassing hugs.

“hug, please?” you asked him, looking up at him.

he didn’t respond, but walked forward and wrapped his long arms around you, squeezing your body to his so tightly you felt like you would melt into him.

work had been rough lately, your duties increasing and your patience decreasing. you hadn’t had a day off in over a week, and you were so tired all you wanted to do was cry and then sleep. luke knew you’d been struggling lately. your coworkers were getting on your last nerve, management was making you madder by the day, and you just wanted time away from work, but despite your requests, they kept giving everyone else time off, but not you.

he wanted to be there for you, always trying to make sure the apartment was clean, the dishes were done, and dinner was either cooked and ready or a take out order was placed when you got home. on especially hard days, he even had a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you. but he couldn’t always be there.

with the new season quickly approaching, his training hours were increasing tremendously in anticipation of training camp starting. he was being pulled in a million different directions right now, not always there when you come home from a long day. those days were especially bad, because you had no relief from the shitty day when you got home, going and sulking on the couch instead.

luckily he was today, because all you wanted was him from the second your least favorite coworker started bitching at you today.

he rubs his hand up and down your back gently, the soothing motion causing you to close your eyes, somehow squishing yourself even further into him.

“i just don’t know how much longer i can do this, luke. i shouldn’t be feeling like this at the end of every day. i should be able to have at least one day to get away from that place and decompress, but they just won’t give me a day off,” you speak into his chest, not wanting to leave his warm embrace.

“you know i’ve told you i can take care of you, that you don’t have to keep working this job that’s killing you,” he responded, turning his head and laying his cheek on the top your head.

“and you know i’ve told you i can’t not work. you already pay for the apartment, i can’t let you pay for everything else by yourself too,” you remind him, having had this conversation several times in the last few months.

luke knows how you feel about him taking the biggest percentage of your shared bills, but he wishes you would just give in. he wants to provide for you, to give you the break that you so desperately need and deserve.

“i know, but it doesn’t have to be forever. quit this job and take a few months off before searching for another one. come to a bunch of my games this season and take some time to go back home and visit your family,” he suggests, knowing it’s been nearly a year since you last saw your them, not being able to get enough time off of work to make the trip home. “better yet, wait until next summer, then come spend it with us at the lake. or let me take you somewhere, just the two of us.”

he places a kiss to the hair on the top of your head, pulling back ever so slightly so you can lift your eyes up to meet his.

“i’ll think about it,” you appease him for the time being, not wanting to get into the full discussion right now. “right now i just wanna stay in this position for a little bit longer,” you move your head to bring your cheek to rest against his chest again, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne.

you feel the rumble of his small chuckle in his chest, squeezing you before whispering a small “jump” while sliding his hands down to grasp under your ass, picking you up and carrying you over to couch as you cling to him like a koala.

he lays his back on the couch, bringing your body down with his so you’re laying on top of him while his arms pin you to his torso. you relax yourself into him, wiggling around just slightly to make yourself comfortable.

luke brings a hand up to play with you hair, caressing the back of your head. you bring your own hands to rest behind his neck, twirling one especially long curl around your finger over and over again, the warmness of his body and the repeated motion of his hand smoothing down your hair lulling you into a half-sleep, half-awake state.

luke says nothing, just laying there and holding you, waiting on you to make the first move to get up. if it was up to you, though, you’d never leave from this position. wanting to live and die in one of luke’s hugs.

after luke feels your breath even out and soft snores start leaving your slightly open mouth, he moves his hand from your hair to rub your back again, wanting to give you time to rest before waking you up to eat dinner.

almost an hour later, you stir, causing luke’s movements to pause.

“how long was i out?” you rasp without moving.

“about an hour. was gonna wait a bit longer before seeing what you wanted for dinner,” he whispered, his lips resting right by one of your ears.

“cuddles,” you tell him, burrowing yourself further into his chest.

luke laughs at you again, stabilizing your head with a large hand, preventing you from shaking all over with his laughter.

“you gotta eat something, baby. not good to go to sleep on an empty stomach,” he scolds you, knowing if he didn’t get food in you soon, you’d wake up tomorrow with an empty belly and a hangry attitude.

“please don’t make me move, L. the longer i lay here the more i forget about why today was so bad in the first place,” you tell him, fisting his shirt to physically ground yourself to him.

luke’s heart swells at your words, face flushing while a grin breaks out on his relaxed face.

“okay, i’ll give you another thirty minutes, but that’s it. then we’re getting up and ordering something to eat. we also need to get your stinky ass in the shower,” he teases, pinching the soft, exposed flesh on your side from where your shirt was slightly raised from all of your wiggling earlier.

you yelp and squirm around on him, brining your legs to hook around both of his, making it to where he can’t stand up without taking you with him.

“we’ll see about that,” you challenge him, nuzzling your face into his chest, focusing on the sound of his heartbeat in his chest to lull you back to sleep.

when you wake up the next morning, in the same position on the couch as last night, your stomach immediately starts to growl, not letting you forget that you didn’t eat dinner last night after convincing luke to stay there with you all night.

you were short and snappy with him, poking his face so he can let go of you so you can go shower and change for work.

knowing you were likely just hungry from last night, he slips out and runs down to your favorite bagel place to grab you some breakfast, making it back before you ever even stepped foot out of the shower.

when you finally came out of the bathroom, half-dressed with tears in your eyes, luke was immediately concerned, walking over to wipe the pooling tears and ask what was wrong.

“i can’t find my favorite blouse and i don’t want to wear another one. i could’ve swore i had washed it and hung it up, but i can’t find it, so now i’m going to look like an idiot at work all day,” you sniffle, still emotional from the previous work day.

luke assured you he’ll help you find it, but when he pulls it out of the dirty laundry hamper you almost go over the edge, mad at yourself that you didn’t wash it.

your tears quickly turn to angry ones, telling him to forget it, you’ll just find something else and then slam the door to your bedroom in his face.

when you come out in a very similar looking blouse to the one you wanted, he can still sense the hostility in your actions and attitude.

he slowly walks over to you as you unwrap your bagel, getting a little too frustrated when the wrapper is stuck to the cheese, this one piece of wax paper refusing to separate from the bagel.

tears start to spill over your eyes, causing luke to rush to your aid, tearing off the stubborn piece of paper.

“thank- thank you,” you speak softly through a hiccup.

“what else can i do to help you?” he asks, not wanting to send you off to work already in a state of unease.

“hug me?” you look at him with a pout, making luke laugh at the never ending cycle, but feeling the same about hugging him as you do, never wanting to step away from the warm blanket of comfort both of you create in these moments.

[deviouz]

i am currently thinking thoughts on being pinned down and put in a headlock by jason todd.

like? him being strong enough to easily manhandle you down, pin you to the floor, and tuck your neck into the crook of his muscular arms when you act up too much. it instantly knocks the brat out of your system, and you go all quiet and doe eyed while he whispers in that low, raspy baritone about how good you’ve suddenly gotten.

he’ll tighten his hold a little, just to see how your eyes glaze over and your thighs press together while you resist the urge to grind back against his more-than-obvious hard on.

“there, there, i’ve got you. not running that pretty little mouth anymore either. being good for me isn’t all that hard to do, now is it, sweetheart?”

me when jason says to shut up and be good or else <3

[fearyandear]

This is the project I've been working on in the side 👉 👈 Still in its conceptualization stages for now but I thought I might as well put it out there

Welcome to Proved Loveless in Death

An Interactive Tumblr Poll game where you choose who's your favorite... and who dies <3

Basic Idea: You are the poor victim of the Court of Fey, targeted with a spell called 'Rose Tint' that makes you able to see choices and decide on what path fate will take in the name of madness and love.

I'll post snippets of backstory and character designs and then write chapters of the story with a poll in the end of updates every once in a while, having votes for how things will proceed. Scuffles and ultimatums, life and death. You've made quite a lot of boys devoted to you throughout your life. Now, years later, see how far the fay's corruption and lovesickness twists their actions through this game.

TW for horror with gore, maiming, psychological abuse, gaslighting, and dub/noncon.

You are trapped having to see the sweet memories and friendships you shared turn into red splatters of blood. The versions of them you remembered, marred forever by how sick and twisted they became as soon as your friends realized this was a competition. You are the prize.

Whoever comes out of it will be your fated lover, and own your heart whole-y (along with getting some compensation from the Fey for the good show of course).

Choose wisely.

Short Profiles and Concept Art of the Friends You've Gathered Throughout the Years:

Cassius (5-10): Violent, protective, entitled.

You were next door neighbors as kids. He played pranks on you at first but would get mad at others and hit them if they tried to do the same. Although you thought he hated you because of how mean he was sometimes, he would not stop hanging around you instead of going home.

After you heard yelling and shattering from his home, you'd let him slip inside your house in secret too. You really became his security blanket, and he eased up on the teasing. But he'd be mean again if you ever tried partnering with anyone other than him.

When you had to move, he bullied you into promising you'd marry him. You eventually relented as you saw him cry for the first time. He's taken this oath way too much to heart and has been doing his best to become someone reliable and strong for you.

Even years later, he can't stay interested in anyone because of how strongly he clings to the fantasy of you. That his goal has only ever been to become someone you could be proud of. He feels like it's a betrayal to let you go.

So he starts chasing after your trail.

Ami (10-13): Girly, manipulative, spoiled.

You came to his school as he was getting retribution for bullying his classmates. He had been snide, unsympathetic, and cruel to them, toying with everyone's emotions. Finally, his classmates snapped, and he found out how powerless he could be against a mod. He started getting bullied himself. He had been so sure the adults would help, but there was no response from his teachers, and his parents never noticed. He felt alone for the first time in his life.

He was at his lowest, accepting his fate, and you saved him without having context to the full story. You became his his knight in shining armor; the person that proved to him again that he had value. He clung to you.

With new resolve, he rebuilt himself. He regained his confidence, and began living two-facedly, as he promised himself you'd never know about his mean side. He kept finding ways to shut anyone who tried talking to you about his past... then, because of his overzealousness, he threatened ANYONE who even tried befriending you too.

He couldn't trust them with you. You were *his*friend; his person to play with, spoil and adore... Up until you had to move far away. Again.

He was distraught and tried so hard to convince you to run away, to hide in his house. He'd take care of you! Of course, you couldn't. It was just a dumb, kiddish fantasy. But even now, years later, as his life went on without you, he keeps revisiting the possibility whenever he misses you.

He's made an enemy out of everyone. No one else has treated him as kindly and as sincerely as you. No one is meant for him like you are. He can't let you go.

He just can't.

Ragnar (13-16): Depressed, asocial, cold.

His mom passed away and his dad moved them to another state. He fell into a deep depression and started having bad, bad thoughts. You were both new to school.

You clung to him because of this; after relying so much on only Ami previously, you were so unsure of how to make friends again that you were terrified. Ragnar was initially disgusted being smothered with attention, he just wanted to be left alone and not care about anything. It was sad, but your classmates started seeing you both in negative ways, and it furthered a divide between you both and them. All the more reason for him him to feel overwhelmed by you. You and your manner of being probing, kind, funny, and so... persistent. He thought he hated you.

But then you got sick and had to miss a few days of school. Getting his wish, being alone all school day and at home, Ragnar realized it was the opposite. He'd unfortunately gotten attached to you.

And he was looking forward to seeing you again.

When you came back, to your shock, he slowly started clinging back. e kept making up reasons as to why in his head. You came to him first anyways, so this much attention was fine, right? And... making sure you weren't be allowed to get close to anyone else was also okay... because it's not like anyone would be able to understand you the way he does.

He began monopolizing you. Everyone in the school was such a fake, you needed someone loyal to look out for you. That could only be him. He was always by your side, ready to give you anything and to keep everyone away. Slipping up on his undiscovered true emotions and telling you at random sometimes, poetic stuff about how much you mean to him and how you two were made to make each other happy.

He was always sweet to you.

When you told him you had to move again, he took it really hard, as if you were the one deciding to leave him. You'd made him want to live again and just took that hope away. He became cold and detached the following weeks, it made you both depressed up until your last day when he was finally to the point of breaking down. He ran to your house, knocked, and hugged you tightly, crying. He didn't say anything as he handed you an envelope and ran away. It said 'Don’t open until we meet again.' You've been obedient.

He knows it's stupid but... he still clings to you as the light in his life that he needs to get back. His life is yours, and yours is his.

Varrik (16-18): Top student, smart, diligent.

You met him in the later years of highschool as all the pressure put on him being on top was beginning to make him break his charming persona. After moving so much, you'd become tired of trying to keep friendships and were settling into being a loner. But, you caught him having an anxiety attack in an empty classroom and helped calm him down.

Because you were new, Varrik let his guard down and felt like he could open up for the first time in years. You didn’t have a preconceived idea of him. You didn't care. It was freeing. After he was done, you tried giving him reassurance, but he lied about being busy and fled the room. Embarassment caught up to him, but when nothing came of his vent session, he started to relax again.

And the prospect of talking to you started to excite him. Ever since, he'd keep an eye on you, and sometimes, when he caught you alone afterschool, he'd linger just a bit around you, hoping you'd find some reason to talk to him. You fell right into your curiosity everytime and would ask him how he felt. Getting to talk to you in private like that would make his day.

It meant the world to him to be able to have someone understand him. In return, he realized your grades could be better and decided for himself to help you by hosting a lot of study (date) sessions. Also in private.

He knew how much of a loner you were, and that talking to him during school could open you up to other friendships... but he liked things as they were already. You were always available and a little expectant about you activities with him. It was cute.

He tried keeping your meetings a secret for thsoe years, but eventually, someone noticed. To combat this, he readily convinced them that he was set up by teachers to be your tutor in private because you had poor behavior that had to be monitored. He made a convincing story about the real reason you never socialized and always kept to yourself. No one doubted someone as reputable and kind as him.

He got his wish. No one else talked to you, and honestly, you couldn't be bothered to realize what had gone on. Now he never had to worry... but just to be safe, he started moving these (dates) sessions to other places. Like cafes, libraries, the park, his home... You were so close outside of school... even hanging out during the breaks. Giving gifts in secret. He was so happy... he wanted to stay that way.

Come senior year, he had a plan. He'd push you to go to the same, elite college as him. He really did his best to monopolize your time and energy into it with extra tutoring, volunteering, and scholarship hunting. He was picturing a future that HAD include you.

Finally, letters were sent and… You weren't accepted.

He was.

It broke his heart more than it did yours. He-He had to go, he couldn't just… not. His parents, his efforts, it'd all have been in vain otherwise. But he hated leaving you behind and felt wrecked with guilt. You did your best to console him. He pretended it worked.

As you waited with him in the airport, you thought about how what a weird twist of fate it was to be the one seeing their friend off now. You hugged him and reassured him you could meet up again sometime. But with how intense his program would be, you both know that was likely impossible. The last call for his flight rang and he had to let you go. You handed him one last gift before you left him. He opened it when he sat in his seat. It was a little keychain with a small photo of the both of you. He couldn't take his eye off it the whole ride.

He still has it, and stares at it when he needs to feel something again.

Ludovic (18-21): Domestic, dependable, protective.

Roomies assigned when both your actual roommates dipped at the last second.

Ludovic started off terrible. He was in a shitty friend group that he'd followed into college just to party. He thought you were a stick in the mud and would intentionally get on your nerves a lot. He was the worst during the first semester, and you planned to ditch him as soon as housing gave you the clear.

But, after staying late studying for semester finals, as you were going back to your dorm on your car, you saw Vic being dragged away by two people. As you get closer it looked shadier and shadier.

You stopped the car and told them you were his roommate. You tried to appear friendly as you told them you'd take him back to your shared dorm. They refused, until you recognized one of them (someone Vic had brought over before) and you called her name. That makes her nervous and their bravado broke. They loaded him in the passenger seat and walked away.

He was definitely, unusually out of it.

He was a mess as you drove back home. He puked on your car. And while going up the elevator. And in your room. You had to help him change and he finally he realized who you are. He started crying about how he knew he was a shitty person, and you didn't deserve putting up with him. He was really starting to blabber about how he knew his life was spiraling with his clique, but that he felt helpless. He had no motivation to change.

It made you pause your initial opinions of him and reevaluate him. You were up all night checking on him and thinking about it as he's passed out. You couldn't help doze off after a while... and woke up feeling like you were watched. You turned around and saw him looking at you. Really looking at you. He didn't say anything, and turned around in his bed. You thought he was embarrassed and let him be, going back to your slumber.

Things changed a lot after that. He dropped his friend group, he became a bit more serious about his degree, he cleaned up after himself and... he valued you a lot more.

He had an epiphany after going through that; that he had to make better life choices. He needed more dependable people around him. Like you. He really wanted to make it up to you. A year later, he has gotten very involved in your life.

Once a week, he'd treat you to something you like, walk you to your classes when possible, and inadvertently memorize your schedule, friends, preferences, quirks.

He'd go above and beyond for you, even taking up extra chores and learning to cook things you liked in the communal kitchen. You felt guilty, like you weren't worth all this attention, but he always told you honestly that he just wanted to work on himself. And part of that was by becoming a good roommate to you. That quelled most arguments.

He's still a bit of an asshole sometimes; he likes to tease you a lot because of your inexperience to a lot of things, but he's never mean. You can finally say you're fond of him, and even look up to him for helping you whenever you were in trouble.

Meanwhile, as time went on and he had more introspection, Vic comes to terms with knowing that.. he loves you. But he's afraid. He can't trust himself anymore. He can't trust his judgment on what's right and wrong. On if he's really a good person or just pretending to be so that he can stay close to you. Against better judgement, his thoughts and urges slip into fantasies that aren't... healthy. It's a vicious cycle that feeds into his guilt, wanting to make up for it by doing something special for you, you give him a compliment that gets to his head and makes him think of more. He can't help it.

Another year, and another. Everything is great. Stuff gets lost and he makes fun of you for it. You binge watch shows and always try to eat together. Other friends you make start to drift away, but he remains your constant.

He'd follow you anywhere... it gets so domestic, anyone would mistake you for a couple already! But unfortunately, that last line is never crossed...

It's time for you to graduate. Because of certain mistakes and a lack of concentration in his classes, he isn't able to join your year. This is it. He'd been spiraling over through all of your final semester. You were leaving him.

He helps you pack, hiding the dread he feels, like his life was slipping away. He had to say something, to confess... Or... did he? Could you do long distance? Would you consider waiting for an idiot like him, still stuck in school?

He didn't want to burden you... after everything was loaded into your car, you both wavered. He joked that this wouldn't be the last of him. Next time you need a roomie, he'll zip right over. You laughed and told him you'd take him in a heartbeat.

In a heartbeat.

You drive off and he's alone, trying to tell himself he can always sneak back into your life. He's gonna graduate. He'll go after you. And even if you're in a relationship, married, or just uninterested, he'll find a way to convince you you two were perfect, and he'd claim you.

He just has to wait.

Xander (21-24): Socially awkward, weakwilled, obsessive.

A tall, gawky, nerdy guy who joined the company you work at the same time as you.

Both of you were given the same assignments so you could help each other out. Xander was super flighty, nervous and stuttered a lot when you first met him, but with you were persistent. You'd take over the reigns when he couldn't, you gently tried making him feel comfortable when he was anxious, and you encouraged him when he did things right. You were a good, sweet coworker, and the man was starstruck, feeling blessed to even be in your presence when he was such a.. screw up.

The reason for Xander's awkwardness was attributed in part, because of his fearful and overbearing parents. He was home-schooled his whole life, kept to the house and taught schooling the 'proper' way. He was told meeting kids his age would only dumb him down, and yet, he felt like he was drowning under his parent's expectations anyways. He was never as good as they wanted.

Finally, he was allowed, at least, to escape to college. He was so nervous and excited. He tried so hard, too hard, to socialize... and found out very quickly that people did not like his ticks. The people in his class thought he was annoying, and he could never get the courage to talk to anyone outside of what was mandatory. Making friends was... too hard. He was hopeless without the tools to express himself well. In the end, he couldn't make any genuine connections up until he graduated.

His dreams of being happy were crushed. He was kicked from his parent's home and felt dread, believing work would be the same kind of hell in a different form.

How lucky he was, that you were there.

You, patient, kind, funny and cool. You, who seek him out even when you're not paired up, who wants to hang out with him for lunch, and doesn't shame him when he makes a social mistake. You're the first person he can call a friend. He's ecstatic and way too overeager... subtly, without realizing at first, he's even building a shrine to you in his head.

Which slowly became into an... actual shrine.

Obsessive. He can't help himself. Overanalyzing the things you talk about, looking for ways to feel closer to you, getting into all the things you're into so you can talk about it at work, stealing your lunch when no one is around and offering his own when you cant find it, soon even coincidentally moving somewhere closer and suggesting carpooling to save on gas. It's all pretty obvious if you weren't so trustful. It's not like anyone cares, no one bats an eye. Xander can get away with it all... for now. The long looks, the extra shifts, random (offerings) gifts in your desk and his constant, looming presence.

You're perfect. There is no one else in Xander's world but you.

[little-pondhead]

Your Ancient History, Written In Wax

-

Danny knew he should have put better security around the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep. It wasn’t even Vlad who opened it this time! The fruitloop was too busy doing his actual mayor duties because for some godforsaken reason, the man got re-elected.

No, it wasn’t Vlad. And it wasn’t Fright Knight, either. Nor the Observants. Who opened the Sarcophagus, then? Danny didn’t have time to find out as Pariah Dark promptly tore open a hole in reality and started hunting Danny down.

The battle was longer this time. He didn’t have the Ecto-Skeleton, as that was the first thing Pariah had destroyed. The halfa had grown a lot over the past few years, and learned some new tricks, but apparently sleeping in a magic ghost box meant that Pariah had absorbed a lot of power. The bigger ghost acted like a one-man army!

Amity Park was caught in the middle of the battle, but the residents made sure it went no further than that. Vlad and the Fentons made a barrier around the town to keep the destruction from leaking. Sam, Tucker, and Dani did crowd control while Danny faced the king head-on.

Their battle shook the Zone and pulled them wildly between the mortal plane and the afterlife. Sometimes, residents noticed a blow from Pariah transported them to the age of the dinosaurs, and Phantom’s Wail brought them to an unknown future. Then they were in a desert. Then a blazing forest. Then underwater. It went on like that, but no one dared step foot outside of Amity. They couldn’t risk being left behind.

It took ages to beat him, but eventually, Danny stood above the old ghost king, encasing his symbols of power in ice so they couldn’t be used again. He refused to claim the title for himself. Tired as he was, Danny handed the objects off to Clockwork for safe keeping and started repairing the damage Pariah had done to the town. The tear he’d made was too big to fix, for now, so no one bothered. They just welcomed their new ghostly neighbors with open arms and worked together to restore Amity Park.

Finally, the day came to bring down the barrier. People were gathered around the giant device the Fentons had built to sustain it. Danny had brought Clockwork to Amity, to double check that they had returned to the right time and dimension.

Clockwork assured everyone that they were in the right spot, and only a small amount of time had passed, so the Fentons gave the signal to drop the shield.

Very quickly did they discover that something was wrong. The air smelled different. The noise of the nearby city, Elmerton, was louder and more chaotic. Something was there that wasn’t before, and it put everyone on edge.

Clockwork smiled, made a remark about the town fitting in better than before, and disappearing before Danny could catch him.

Frantic, Danny had a few of his ghost buds stay behind to protect the town while he investigated.

He flew far and wide, steadily growing horrified at the changes the world had undergone. Heroes, villains, rampant crime and alien invasions. The Earth was unrecognizable. There were people moving around the stars like it was second nature and others raising dead gods like the apocalypse was coming. Magic and ectoplasm was everywhere, rather than following the ley lines like they were supposed to.

Danny returned to Amity.

The fight with Pariah had taken them through space and time. Somewhere along the way, they had changed the course of history so badly that this now felt like an alien world.

How was he supposed to fix this?

-

In the Watchtower, The Flash was wrapping up monitor duty while Impulse buzzed around him, a little more jittery than usual. The boy was talking a mile a minute, when alarms started blaring an alarming green. Flash had never seen this alarm before, and its crackling whine was grating on his ears.

Flash returned to the monitor, frantically clicking around to find the issue, but nothing was popping up. No major disasters, no invasions, no declarations of war. Nothing! What was causing the alarm?

Impulse swore and zipped to a window, pressing his face against it and staring down at Earth. “Fuck! It’s today isn’t it? I forgot!”

“What’s today?” Flash asked. He shot off a text to Batman, asking if it was an error. The big Bat said it wasn’t, and that he would be there soon.

“The arrival of Amity Park. I learned about this in school; the alarm always gives me headaches.”

Flash turned to his grandson, getting his attention. “Bart,” he stressed. “What are you talking about?”

Impulse barely glanced over his shoulder. Now that Flash was facing him, he could see a strong glow coming from Earth. “The first villain, first anti-villain, and the first hero,” he said anxiously. “They all protect the town of the original metas. They’re all here.”

“Here? Now??”

“Yeah? They weren’t before, but they are now. The first hero said there was time stuff involved, which was what inspired me to start practicing time travel in the first place.”

“I’m not following.”

“It’s okay. We should probably go welcome them before they tear apart Illinois, though. The history I remember says that some of them freaked and destroyed a chunk of the Midwest during a fight with each other.”

“WHAT?”

[idyllcy]

please? - jaime reyes x reader (nsfw warning)

Jaime pants, one brow furrowed, sweat dripping down his hair as he cages you in, lips pressed to yours feverishly, whimpering. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks you, sound of the bed creaking as he does. He's sure Khaji Da's mentioning his dopamine and endorphins levels are off the charts alongside his quickened heartbeat, but you're just so irresistible when you're whimpering his name like that. Besides, it's a great stress reliever and post-fight reward. Ugh. He pauses slightly, pushing his hair back as you exhale shakily.

"What? Tired already, mi amor?" You hum, lips quirked upward, expression changing as he thrusts into you again. 

"You're really chatty, mi vida." Jaime mumbles. "Maybe if you didn't look so good, I wouldn't stop to admire your beauty so often."

Jaime looks down as you clench on him from the compliment.

"You're such a womanizer, mi amor." You mumble. 

"Only you get to hear things like this." He hums, thumb finding your clit as he starts again, slower this time, holding you down as he forces you to feel every inch of you, eyes enamored as he watches himself disappear into you slowly, holding you down so you can't squirm.

"Jaime." You gasp. "Please."

"Please what, mi vida? You know you have to say it." He smiles cheekily.

"Harder? Please?" You try, voice coming out weak. 

"Of course." He presses a kiss to the corner of your eye. "All you had to do is ask."

and Jaime loves gently, a reminder that he was affectionate with you no matter the situation, skin pressed to yours, lips pressed to yours, fingers laced with yours— he was yours from the inside out.

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[tetzoro]

꒰ ❤︎ ﹒ 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓢𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 ﹒ 𓂃 a kiss filled with fervor, desperation seeping into both of your tired bones as you melt into one another, fused and forged by the fruits of battle. being able to hold you in his arms like this, steal all the breath from your lungs eases him like nothing else. for you were with him, you were safe, you were alive.

thank you so much @purpurregen ! i’m absolutely obsessed :’)

[vilentia]

Dark Charms

David McCall x reader

In the dimly lit ambiance of a downtown bar, the air was thick with the murmur of conversations and the occasional clink of glasses. You were there, nestled between your two best friends, Sarah and Mike, unwinding after a long week. The atmosphere was lively, the kind of place that promised forgotten worries and fleeting joys.

That night, the bar wasn't just a backdrop for casual drinks; it was where paths were destined to intersect. Sarah, ever the spontaneous spirit, was caught up in a complex situationship with a guy named Chris, who, as fate would have it, was a friend of David McCall.

David, a name you hadn't known until that night, would soon etch itself into your memory. He walked in with the kind of confident stride that turned heads, a magnetic pull in his step. His eyes found Sarah and Chris, and subsequently, you. There was an intensity in his gaze, a silent promise of something more, something deeper.

You noticed him immediately. He was undeniably attractive, with a charm that seemed to seep through the very air he breathed. When introductions were made, his hand lingered in yours a second longer, his smile a little too knowing, a little too intrigued. It was disarming, the way he looked at you, as if he could see past the facade we all wear in social settings.

As the night progressed, David's attention was unrelenting. He was charming, his words laced with an edge that was both exciting and unnerving. He shared stories that made you laugh, then think, then question. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, his presence a catalyst for a rush you hadn't anticipated.

You found yourself drawn into his orbit, captivated by the duality of his persona. On the surface, he was all charm and wit, but beneath that veneer, there was a darkness, an untamed intensity that you couldn't quite decipher. It was both a warning and an allure, a paradox that intrigued you.

Your friends noticed the chemistry, a mix of concern and curiosity in their glances. Mike's protective nature was evident, his eyes often flickering between you and David, assessing, calculating. But the night belonged to the unexpected, to the thrilling unknown.

As the bar began to empty, the reality of time creeping back in, David leaned in, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "Would you like to go out with me?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

It was a simple question, but loaded with possibilities, with the promise of exploring the enigma that was David McCall. You were at a crossroads, with the safe path on one side and the allure of the unknown on the other. And in that moment, you realized that you wanted to know more, to peel back the layers of this intriguing stranger.

Your "yes" was a whisper, a concession to the curiosity that David had ignited in you. As you left the bar, the night air felt different, charged with the potential of what was to come. David McCall was no ordinary encounter, and you, perhaps against your better judgment, were ready to delve into the mystery.

[fearyandear]

Toxic Tsundere Yandere Childhood Friend Blurb

A friend got me into a childhood friend kick.

Thinking about tsundere yandere best friend who realized in middleschool how toxic his dependance on you was so he tried to put distance between you both by getting mad at you for following him and insisting on sitting separately. It lasted a week before he saw you laughing with new friends and he couldn't take it, he scooped you back up. After lots of fights and him repeating the cycle of pushing you away then pulling you forcefully back in, you felt you got the hang of it and domt take his harshness as personal anymore.

"I told you to stop asking me to be your partner for projects! You need to branch out more!!'

'Shut up. You know I won't.'

'... what are you gonna do when I'm not around, fucking christ.'

'I'll decide what to do then. But for now, you're here, and you're my best option. You'll always be my best option.'

'... you're gonna regret saying that one day.'

'I doubt it cuz it's true.'

You keep sitting next to him, you keep following him, you keep making friends with him by your side, hand in hand, because despite his protests, you know that's what he wants.

It's really getting to his head. He feels so good, and so GUILTY.

Once highschool comes, his tactics turn more vicious and volatile.

He's gonna insult you at school in front of everyone at any given chance, embarrassing you a lot of the time. Then, he'll turn around and do stuff you've never done before like 'granting you permission' to sit on his lap for the pep rally, his arms not letting you go even when a teacher almost notices. You've told him off countless times, but it's like talking to a wall. Arguments always end with 'So what then? Are you sick of me?'

You aren't. You can't be. He's your best friend. Every time, he has to hide his grin.

He's found a loophole to keep you close and still be able to tell himself that he tried getting you away. Deep down, he knows you won't leave him.

You're stuck.

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne I am BEGGING for “This is real. I’m real. Look at me.” with Dick 🥺🤍

SEXY! love this prompt, thank u for requesting 🥰

"this is real. i'm real. look at me." — dick grayson x gn!reader | tw: fear toxin, hallucinations, panicked reader | 500 words

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

"How long?"

"I don't know—"

"Well, how much did they inhale?"

"I don't know, Bruce!"

Everything is cloudy, warped. If you turn your head too fast, shadows loom over you. You cover your eyes and whimper, trying to shut out the monsters.

The Joker laughs, distantly, and you cry, thrashing. Someone holds down your shoulders and you cry louder. Your hand connects with skin. Someone grunts.

"Shit. Dick, come here!"

Cool hands rest on your face and pull at your hands. You scream and try to fight. The Joker laughs get closer.

"Don't let him get me," you beg. "Don't—he's here, don't... don't let him..."

"Baby, baby, I'm right here."

Your hands are pried off your face. You catch flashes of red, black, and blue. A familiar blue.

But then you meet milky white eyes, and in the haze of the toxin, the eyes turn sinister. You fight, pushing at the eyes, and another pair of hands holds down your legs.

"Let go, let go!" you scream. "Let go!"

"Tim, is it ready or not?"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

The milky eyes suddenly disappear, replaced by blue.

"Honey, I'm right here," the blue eyes say, and you feel a hand on your cheek. "You're safe. It's me, it's Dick. Can you hear me?"

"Dick," you say, thrashing again. "Dick, he's here. You have to run, he's gonna—"

"No one's here, baby. You're in the Cave. You're safe, okay? I'm not gonna let anybody get you."

Your eyes scrunch up with tears, and the blue eyes blur. There's a pinch in your arm. You flinch and launch forward.

"I'm scared! I'm scared, don't hurt me—"

"Baby, hey. This is real. I'm real. Look at me."

Fingers brush away the tears under your lashes. The blue eyes come back into focus. They connect to a face.

"He's gonna get you," you say, chest aching with how shallow your breaths are.

Dick cups the back of your head. Behind him, you see Scarecrow himself. You start to wriggle, but Dick holds you tighter.

"I've got you. No one's there, baby. Close your eyes for me, okay, sweetheart? Listen to my voice."

"He-he'll kill you—"

"No one's gonna hurt me or you. I need you to slow your breathing. Come on, honey, slow breaths. Breathe with me."

You bury your face in a warm neck. He breathes and you breathe with him as best as you can, clinging to his suit. You close your eyes and cling hard. Dick rubs your back in circles.

"That's it. Good job. I got you. I'm here. No one's gonna get you."

"It feels so real," you whisper.

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry." Dick sounds choked, and he clears his throat. "It'll go away soon."

"Don't leave," you say instantly, hugging him tighter. Your eyes are squeezed shut so hard it almost hurts.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here the whole time. You still breathing?"

That reminds you to feel his breath and follow them. You thread your fingers through his hair. He smells like home. The gas can create a lot of things, but it can't take away the jasmine detergent Alfred uses, or the spiced cologne Dick dabs behind his ears.

"I'm-I'm breathing," you say.

"Good, you're doing so good. You're safe."

Dick doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night.

[puckinghischier]

i come to you with a blurb thats been in my head because i desperately need it rn 😭

like,,, idk if its been said before BUT imagine nico helping you study!! youre taking your master's or maybe you're finishing up a long degree! regardless, he's ready to help you with your flashcards and notes and books and he gives you a lil smooch and a chocolate when you get one right! but he's very serious about it being just one kiss!! you have to study after all!! but.....maybeeee....sometimes...he'll add in another and another and another just because you look so cute when youre focused <3 and when he feels you getting tired or burnt out after it all, he obviously gives the best cuddles!

“baby, just one more question, and then you get 10 minutes of couch cuddles until we start the next unit,” nico would encourage you, knowing how frustrated and tired you’re becoming.

“nico i don’t want to do anymore tonight, we’ve been at it for three hours already. can’t we just called it quits after this last question?” you’d whine, ready to just drop out altogether, tired of spending every free moment you have doing homework.

he knows he shouldn’t have caved earlier, letting himself get too carried away when he decided to give you three kisses instead of one when you managed to get ten questions right in a row. the result was a thirty minute make out session that neither of you wanted to cut short, but he fought tooth and nail to get you back on track.

he mulls the thought over, knowing you’re getting antsy and ready to pack everything up for the night, but also knowing how much you’ve been stressing over this test and wanting to help you go into it as confident as you can.

“give me five more questions and we’ll call it a night, deal?” he tries to compromise with you, knowing you’ll complain all day tomorrow if you quit right now.

you roll your eyes and groan at him, throwing a silent fit with the look on your face.

“okay, five more questions then we put everything away and i’ll lay with you on the couch and rub your back while we watch dancing with the stars reruns,” he offers, using your current fixation show against you.

you perk up at the offer, always having to beg and plead for him to even watch one episode with you because ‘why would i want to watch a bunch of washed up celebrities do ballroom dances poorly?’

“deal,” you decide to agree to his terms, readying yourself for a night of cuddles and ripped men with no shirts on.

chuckling, nico picks your flash cards back up and goes through the next five questions with you, smiling proudly when you get all five right.

“eeek! okay, now hurry up and help me clean the couch off, we have a rumba to watch!!” you’d cheer, excited to finally relax with your study buddy.

once the materials are all out of sight and you’re pressed against nico on the couch, you find yourself drifting off to sleep sooner than you wanted, your brain tired after all of thinking you made it do.

“what if i wake up tomorrow and forget everything we just went over,” you mumble into nico’s chest, feeling the rumbles of laughter that erupt at your question.

“baby, i don’t think you’re gonna forget everything. you’ll remember why bruno only gave derek and his partner an 8 instead of a 10,” he jokes, upset that he’s actually managed to get partially invested in this show.

“maybe if they converted the material into judges speeches delivered by bruno tonioli, then i wouldn’t even have to study. the initial delivery would be enough to stick in my brain for forever,” you groggily replied, nuzzling your head further into nico’s chest.

he shook his head and rolled his eyes at you, even though you couldn’t see him because yours were already closed. he knows you’re the smartest person he’s ever met, and you’ll do fine on this test and all of the future ones you have to take.

but he won’t ever let you forget that he helped, claiming he should get his own form of rewards for doing half of the work with you.

[minecraftakis]

giyuu blurbyy ｡* ❦

imagine you and giyuu are in bed cuddling just about to go to sleep when he goes so kiss your palm. you feel light as he starts worshipping you, and as his warm lips glide across your creases you breathe. he ravishes on your palm, and murmurs softly in his low voice. “i love you, you’re so beautiful my love.” and with a gentle gaze he intoxicates every inch of your soul with his sweet warmth.

[ughgoaway]

Ok so maybe the walls of neighbor matty and girlie’s building are kinda thin so when she fucks he can hear everythinggg and he’s laying there like Oh my god i’m a pervert but she’s so hot and he’s imagining what she must look like all sweaty and naked and moaning like that… and he just slooowly starts getting off, shirt CLENCHED between his teeth to keep himself quiet because if He can hear Her the reverse has to be true as well and then he cums all over himself wishing he was the one making her scream like that

and then maybe takes advantage of the fact she can definitely hear him getting off at a later date teehee 😇😇

Oh ABSOLUTELY, heather your mind>>>>>

(18+ below the cut, please!! also this might be shite i haven't written properly in 76 years. 1.4k ish!!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

You've just been on yet another date, and you know there's no future there at all. His going on for 45 minutes about his latest stock investments in crypto made that clear. But you also know there doesn't need to be a future for him to get you off. So you flash your doe eyes and invite him up to your place, letting the strap of your dress slip and a glimpse of black lace peek through. It doesn't take much before his hands are groping at your ass as the lift doors click closed.

And he's a fine kisser, and his skin on yours feels just the same as any other man. But when your hands slide into his hair, you can't help but subconsciously wish you were gripping unkempt curls, tugging at them and hearing that same moan you’ve heard through the thin walls of your bedroom late at night. You wish you could smell the woody aftershave that makes you roll your eyes every time it wafts your way, you want to hear just one voice whispering the things he's saying into your ear, and his gruff tone isn't scratching the itch you’re in denial about.

The sheets hit your bare back, and you watch with hooded eyes as your date scrambles to get his trousers down his legs, clearly eager to get inside you. And knowing how good you look right now, you're not surprised. His overheated lips touch the skin of your neck, and you decide then and there to put on the performance of your life. You don't want Matty, and your brain convincing you that you do is just because it's swimming in expensive wine and 2 shots of tequila. You want him, you want… John? No, James? Wait… did it begin with J? Oh well, you don't need to be coherent when you focus on his skin on yours. Breathy moans and whines will more than suffice.

Matty's eyes snap open the second he hears a low voice accompanying yours, the breathy faux giggle falling from your lips making him roll his eyes. As far as he's concerned, he's just annoyed about any noise, not that there's a man with you. Or that he's now in your bedroom, judging by the gradually louder speech. He fucking hates that his headboard and yours technically share a wall, bored of hearing all your shitty singing when you're getting ready in the morning. 

If he has to hear your rendition of Ain't it fun one more time, he's going to make an official noise complaint. Mainly because he loves it when you get pissed off and your eyebrows scrunch up as you yell at him. His heart tries to tell him it's because he finds you endearing, but his head refuses that fact.

He definitely doesn't feel like he loves anything when he hears the first wanton moan fall from your lips, and the louder they get, the more frustration builds inside him. What type of frustration is up for debate, but judging by the slowly growing tent in his trousers, it's not just pure annoyance. He really tries to stop focusing on your every noise, but it's hard when you sound like that. He swears he can hear every hitch in your breath, every shaky inhale and needy moan that comes from your ruby red lips.

He feels like a fucking creep and he's just about to reach for his headphones when you start getting louder, groaning and screaming like the girls he watches on Friday nights, one hand down his trousers and the other turning up the volume on his Macbook. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine what you’re doing. He can see you hovering above him, skin glowing red, flushed from your tits all the way up to the apples of your cheeks. His eyes flicker closed as he sees visions of your tits bouncing bove him, you pulling your hair to the side exposing your marked-up neck with a sly smirk covering your face. 

Goosebumps rise on his skin, and without realising it, his hand starts to slide down, groping himself over his thin boxers. A far too loud shaky gasp is ripped from his chest. He can't help but freeze immediately, nervous that somehow over the sounds of slapping skin and wanton grunts, you'd heard his weak gasp. But judging by the loud moan followed by “fuck- yes!” That he hears, you're obviously distracted by something else. Or somebody else.

Dilemma fills his mind. Or it does for a few seconds, but he can't stop himself from lying back down, pulling his boxers down his knees, dragging his shirt up over his skin and gripping it between his teeth, tugging at it to get a better view of his hand wrapping around his half hard dick. The first tug is heavenly, there’s just enough pull to make him hiss, but the shirt muffles any noises he makes, and the slight pain just feels so fucking good.

It doesn't take long before he's furiously pumping his fist to the sounds of you, ignoring the gruff grunts of the mystery man to instead focus on your high pitched moans followed by breathy praise that he knows is you. Matty's brain convinces himself each noise is for him, every gasp, whine, and whimper ripped from your chest is because you are thinking of him, wishing he was on top of you, dreaming of him inside you whispering filthy secrets into your ear as he bites at your neck.

His thumb brushes over his weeping tip, spreading beads of precum down his shaft, using it as lube to move faster, grip himself harder, to feel more. Each time his fist reaches the top of his erection, he can't help his hips jump into the contact, the same needy moan falling from his muffled lips. He swears he can taste blood, biting the shirt so hard he's sure he's catching his lip, the liquid iron taste overwhelming his senses in a way he can't bring himself to care about.

The air was thick and heavy around him, the smell of your perfume somehow filling his senses, his eyes flicking open to watch the red flush that covers his inked skin creep up his body, obscuring the small marks that litter him. Shaky eyes roll into the back of his head, fighting to stop his jaw-dropping and letting every grunt and groan escape. Part of him wants you to hear. He wants you to know he is getting off to you, to know that he wants you. Instead, he bites down harder, letting beads of sweat drip down his neck. Twitching hips and his racing heart make his head hazy, visions of you clouding his mind.

Cosmic timing makes you and Matty teeter at the edge of bliss at the same time, the same electricity pooling at both of your spines. Matty can tell you’re close even with a wall between the two of you. Your once coherent pleads quickly become rambling words and needy cries. He swears he can see you keening into his touch when he closes his eyes, speeding up his first to match the sounds of slapping skin he can hear next door, convincing himself that he’s the one fucking you.

Coiling tension pulsates inside you both, your breath hitching moments before the tension snaps, wave crashing over you and Matty. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your hips jumping as your date keeps fucking you, pushing deeper as he watches you in awe, studying the way your jaw drops and your whole body shivers.

Matty listens in shock, staring down as streams of white cum cover his thighs, painting the tattoo that sits so proudly on his hip. He keeps listening to every noise from you, wishing he could hear them without plaster between you, he wants to be the one making you cry from pleasure, watching your body shake as you come down, seeing the blissed-out smile on your face when you finally start to feel your legs again.

But eventually, the cum on his skin starts to feel cold and sticky, and the visions of you become clouded with all the times you've told him you hate him, all the times you called the building manager because he won't stop smoking weed, or even the time you called the police because he wouldn't stop blasting music. The illusion was shattered as he wipes his cum half-heartedly off his thighs and hand, rolling over to sleep, fighting to forget he ever hears a single noise from the apartment next door.

As for you hearing him… I will expand it another time teehee

(p.s any and all neighbour matty ideas are welcomed xoxo)